


Whumptober (in September apparently???)

by The_Loser_Trio



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26553586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Loser_Trio/pseuds/The_Loser_Trio
Summary: A collection of angst prompts. I’m starting this early at 2am instead of sleeping, but what’s new there. |D;Tags to be added as I go along.Enjoy!
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Eskel & Lambert (The Witcher)
Kudos: 8





	1. Prompt: Take me instead!

**Author's Note:**

> Lambert should just hang up witchering before his own stupidity rivals the White Wolf’s and gets him killed.

Lambert should’ve fucking known that something was off. The townspeople were too delighted for a Witcher to arrive, far too generous with their coin and hospitality. Usually, he’d be a bit more weary. Except the youngest Wolf had been exhausted; too many weeks without proper food or shelter, too many contracts that ended up with less pay than first anticipated. So he’d been trusting where he shouldn’t and here he was.

Ahead was a mage, surrounded by men that could only be mercenaries. The sorcerer with grey hair and beady little eyes made Lambert want to shudder away from him, repulsed. The cruelty that would be inflicted by those clawed hands didn’t bare considering. Worse, he wasn’t alone. They’d managed to land another Witcher, one from the school of the Cat judging from the medallion resting against his chest. Dirty, slight, the Cat had a bald head with scars across his face, wounded and hissing like the cornered animal he was. Appeared young too, younger than Lambert in any case.

If either had been in the condition to fight back, that would’ve been acceptable. They’d wipe the floor with them, easy. Only they fucking weren’t and the mage looked.. hungry. For what, he’d rather not study it too closely. Finally, the foul creature spoke up as it wet its lips.

“We only need one. Take the smallest, he will do perfectly,” he said, sly and all too civilised sounding. Even if that was clearly a load of bullshit. Bristling, Lambert shot a glance at the Cat and realised that there was only one course of action to take. Damn his bleeding heart. Geralt had been right, he was soft. Soft and _stupid_.

“Take me instead,” Lambert grit out, forcing back a wince as those glittering eyes found his. That hunger only seemed to grow. “Who’d want a Cat when you can have a Wolf?” And fuck if that didn’t make him want to hurl. Whatever this was, it wouldn’t be good.

It took all of Lambert’s willpower to remain docile, even as the Cat scrambled away with an enviable agility. Even as a heavy club came into contact with his head, sending the Witcher falling as he gasped for breath. Even as a hand caressed his face, a low voice purring at how good he was going to be. He wanted to snap his teeth at the fingers that forced his mouth open, but nothing would cooperate. A sudden sharp taste erupted on his tongue without warning before the blackness started creeping in.

 _Eskel..._  
 _Geralt_...  
 _I’m sorry_...


	2. Prompt: Don’t say goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn’t meant to end this way.

“Eskel? Fuck, c’mon you lazy bastard —“

The scent of death surrounded them; thick with blood and the burnt flesh from a powerful igni. A silver sword shone in the ebbing light from where it was still embedded in the skull of the basilisk. Appear from Lambert’s shaky breathing and the sound of the wind, all was silent.  Eskel  was silent. 

Swallowing, the taste of blood and fear mingling with the ash of despair, the younger witcher bit the fingers of his glove to rip it off his hand. The other quickly followed suit. Both discarded as he smoothed one of them through the hair of his brother’s head, tilting it so it could grab a bottle of swallow and pour it in. A few beats of silence before he picked up another and poured  that one in. Again and again and again until there was nothing left, the excess bubbling past still lips. At some point his hands had started shaking, so hard that the empty bottle dropped and the world seemed to freeze for a couple of long seconds. 

  
“ Wake the  _**fuck**_ up —!!!”  Suddenly furious, Lambert grabbed the front of Eskel’s gambeson to shake him, wanting nothing more than to howl and hack up the remains of the leshen that had snuck up behind them.

It wasn’t supposed to BE this way. Him and Eskel were meant to be laughing, cleaning their blades after a fun kill and heading back to swap stories while sharing drinks. Eskel wasn’t supposed to be motionless, slight-less eyes staring at nothing while the blood continued to flow from the wound that had been ripped into his side. All because Lambert was too slow to move out the way. And now — now he was knelt next to Eskel, feeling like the world had ended and not knowing what to do anymore, except to continue trying to wake a Wolf that would not rise ever again.

“ Eskel, please. Don’t say goodbye, _please_ -“ 


	3. Prompt: you don’t have to worry about anything, as long as I’m around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request from fam. 💞 
> 
> Aiden x Lambert, sadness. A bit of cute.

“Hey- Hey! Baby wolf, calm down. You’re gonna make ME start to get anxious.” Laughing, the Cat grabbed the agitated Wolf’s arm to yank him down next to the fire. He gave a few soothing pets to his forearm, endlessly amused by the bookcase holders as armour. Lambert continuously bitched about how they _weren’t_ but Aiden knew better. The tension in his partner felt like it could snap bones.

Still the contact seemed to do the trick. That small bit of contact making the other Witcher relax a tiny bit. Though not enough for the smaller’s liking. Huffing out a loooong sigh, Aiden slumped into his Wolf with a pleased grin, since Lambert instantly leant back.  
  


“You don’t have to worry about anything. Not as long as I’m around.”   
  


That drew the younger’s attention, pretty golden eyes filled with a swirl of emotions. That ever present fear warring with hope, a familiar anger that never seemed to die, and a clear need for closeness. With a soft smirk, Aiden drew his Wolf in to press their mouths together. A comfort they felt safe enough to indulge in with each other, as they both grabbed at clothing and a warm, large hand slid into Aiden’s hair.   
  


This. This is what felt right and where they both belonged.

**.:BONUS** **SCENE:.**

Silent, Lambert knelt in front of the hurriedly dug grave in front of him. He hadn’t really been thinking, all he knew was he needed to bury Aiden. Needed to stop the crows from pecking the flesh off his body. Needed to take him away from THERE.

He felt.. different. Almost as if someone had carved out the place his heart should be and dumped it beside Aiden’s body. Lifeless. Dead. Gone. The medallion that had been around his neck was now around Lambert’s.  
  


Because as long as Aiden was with him, there was nothing to worry about.   
  


... Right?


End file.
